There was silence again for a few moments, which was broken by Marian Reed, the most self-possessed of any of us, for even I, the least interested, felt somewhat nonplussed by the aspect of affairs: 'It will take me a good week or ten days to get distangy mourning;' with a glance towards Lilian, as she gave that evidence of having learned French. 'Suppose we say ten days?'
'Very well,' replied Lilian, rising.
'But you haven't given me the address yet, you know. And you must excuse my reminding you that there's been nothing said about last quarter's remittance, which was due last week, and which we have been a great deal inconvenienced by not receiving.'
I hastened to put the packet into her hand. 'This was placed ready for you, Miss Reed; but for the address upon it we might not have found you; and I daresay you will find it correct.'
'O yes; no doubt;' taking it with a negligent air, in amusing contrast with her next words: 'And then there's the mourning, you know; that will have to be paid for; and good mourning is so expensive.'
'O yes; of course; I beg your pardon,' said Lilian, hurriedly taking out her pocket-book. 'This is the address; and—— No; I find I have not enough money with me; but I will send you a cheque when I get home, if that will do. And of course you will like to make some little acknowledgment to the friends who have been always so kind to you.'
'Of course I should, if you send enough,' sharply replied Miss Reed.
The colour rose in Lilian's cheeks. 'I will send what you please.'
'Well, you couldn't say more than that, I'm sure,' graciously responded Miss Reed. 'But I'd rather leave it to you.'
'Will fifty pounds be enough?'